Keelhauled
by missrebecca
Summary: NOW ON WATTPAD AS ORIGINAL WORK. A story of love sprung from hate; of resentment, revenge and renegades. Abandon all hope ye who enter, for here there be pirates. Winner of the Twi Network Iron Pen. NOMINATED IN TWO SHIMMER AWARDS.
1. OutTake: Fallen

_So, it's been a while, but I've been working on a number of out-takes to this story. This is the first. I can't be sure how many there'll be, but I know there's definitely another two/three, one of which is written; those of you who received the Fandom for Texas Wildfires compilation may have seen it :). That will be posted as the new year starts._

I hope you enjoy this. I'm doing this partly because I simply can't leave these characters alone (okay, mostly that) but also because you've all been amazing, and I'm just...so grateful to everyone who has read/favourited/reviewed/rec'd this story.

OH! You might also be interested to know that Keelhauled has been nominated in The Shimmer Awards (shimmerawards dot blogspot dot com) in both the Tale (best AU) and the Kiss (best Romance) categories :). Please vote, after checking out the competition of course

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><p><span>Keelhauled ~ out-takes<span>

by missrebecca

Fallen

Isabella felt small. She sat with her knees pulled to her chin, thin white arms wrapped about them, as she stared out into the moonlit bay. It was getting colder in Jamaica, though Isabella wasn't sure cold was exactly the right word; slightly-less-hot would be more appropriate. The sting of tears was familiar and she growled beneath her breath as the first hot drop fell to her cheek; she was so sick of crying.

A year was not long enough to become accustomed to the Jamaican heat, it was not enough to wake up each morning and not think that perhaps this was the day she would return to England. It was certainly not long enough for her to stop missing her father, and despairing that she had to stay with her uncle; Isabella wasn't sure eternity would be long enough for that.

In the dark, with only the sound of the waves rushing against the shore, her mind was cast back to that night, as it so often was. It tried to show her the stormy clouds, attempted to make her imagine how the cold rain had sunk so easily into her clothes, it almost brought back the sickness as the ship had rolled beneath her. Shaking her head she closed her eyes, forcing those dastardly images from her minds eye. Focusing on something else always helped to ease the pain, which was most usually waking up in an unfamiliar place with curious green eyes looking upon her.

Isabella had never forgotten Edward, or the way they had taunted one another. His skinny ankles, bare feet, and pale skin haunted both her waking and sleeping dreams. She saw him angry, agitated, and practically vibrating with hatred. Then she saw him contrite, apologetic, and smiling slightly as he passed her a book for her to pass the time alone in the room. He was contradictions and peace of mind.

Isabella, while not a usual girl by any means, at least had the brains to understand what was happening to her. She was becoming infatuated with him, which in her mind was entirely too ridiculous to even think about. She barely knew the boy, had met him once and had spent most of the time in his company making him miserable. She was also sure she would never see him again.

As she sighed deep, thankful that the tears had ceased their descent, she heard a noise from behind her. It was the sound of thick soled leather boots on fine gravel sand; she would know the sound anywhere. She turned her head only slightly to see Michael, the blond haired, blue eyed stable hand. Two years her senior he had been attempting to court her in secret for almost a month, but Isabella was not to be fooled by his sweet smiles and careful touches. She knew he wanted little in the way of conversation from her; it was her body alone he desired. She slanted a look his way, waiting for him to make his move.

Michael was sure he had never seen anyone so beautiful, as he looked to Isabella sat upon the damp sand. The moonlight glinted off of her curling tresses, it made her skin glow in the ethereal light; she was a sea nymph, his undoing, and everything he wanted. The curves of her body were hidden in the deep blue dress she wore; only the slight round of her breast was exposed to the air. Michael could not stop the spike of lust piercing through him, and hoped the flash he saw in her eyes was the same.

Slowly, Isabella stood ignoring the sand clinging to her skirts and the way the loose top had fallen from her shoulder, exposing her collar bone and creamy skin of her shoulder. Michael wanted to lathe his tongue and lips over every inch of exposed skin. She was so different from how she had arrived on these shores one year ago. Back then she had been thin, coltish in her movements, and looking like she'd been through a war. Now she was growing into her feminine curves, her lips were pink and pouting, and she had a way of looking at men that sent their hearts racing.

Isabella's mind spun as she meandered across the sand to stand before Michael, she was so intensely sick of being good. Doing as her Uncle always told her, and pretending to enjoy the company of his insipid French wife was endlessly tiring. She wanted rebellion, and while she was almost certain Philip would never learn of what occurred that night, it made her feel good knowing she was about to go against his direct orders.

Philip had always told her not to mingle too much with the staff, except that the staff were the most interesting people Isabella had ever met. They were honest and fluid; they laughed and joked, and seemed so much freer than Isabella could ever hope to be. They were people she enjoyed to be with, as apposed to her Uncle and his acquaintances with their fake smiles and business propositions. Everything was about money, it was something Isabella despised.

She stood before Michael, toes touching in the sand and breath catching in the air between them. She could feel the heat from him, could see the vessel in his neck twitching from his accelerating heart beat, she imagined hers must look the same. He was such a handsome man, with his blond hair and blue eyes, his skin was tanned and his hands rough as they grabbed on to her waist. She tripped into his chest, catching herself with her hands on his bulging arms; she had never felt such desire rip through her.

When they kissed, it was frantic. There was no romance, no love however, Isabella knew their union was not about a mutual sense of affection. It was desperation: Michael, so desperate to have the Governor's niece, to claim her maidenhead for his own, to boast to his boys in the tavern; and Isabella, desperate to defy her uncle in the worst way she could imagine.

As they tumbled to the sand, their clothes shod in the moonlight, Isabella shed but a single tear. This was to be something to give to her husband; it was a treasure and something to be treated as such. She became a fallen woman as soon as Michael sheathed himself with an inexperienced groan within her; there would be no salvation.

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><p><em>This is the just the first, and yeah, it's not the most happy to begin on. They aren't going to posted in a linear order. The next to be posted is a future-take.<em>

_Let me know what you think :)_


	2. Out Take: Treasure of Tiakwen

_This is something I wrote for the Fandom for Texas Wildfire Relief. It's 9,000 words long and is more like a mini story all on it's own than simply an out-take. _

_I really hope you enjoy this, because I certainly enjoyed writing it :)_

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><p><span>Title<span>: Keelhauled: Treasure of Tiakwen

Pen name: missrebecca

Rated: MA/NC-17

Summary: Four years after Edward kidnapped Isabella from the Thunderchild, and their life is perfect; hard, but perfect. They sail the seas with no thought of where it will take them. Until the idea of a treasure, long thought imaginary, entices our heroes into the deadliest fight of their lives.

Warnings:Character death, voodoo, disturbing scenes.

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><p>The sun blazed down upon them, scorching skin and eyes a like. There was not a cloud to be seen above and nothing to be seen for miles around but deep blue. For such a beautiful day the waves rocketed against the rocks, making the crossing from the boat to the island treacherous. But the men paddled on.<p>

Their determination was palpable in the air about them. They showed no fear. Not after all the tales they had heard of the island they headed to, nor after seeing the ships wrecked about them. They would be different, they were sure of it.

Suddenly the sea calmed, becoming as still as a mill pond. The men did not think this strange and so they paddled ever faster. The shore was growing larger, and soon they could simply walk to land.

They should not have been so hasty, for they had not moved far before the waves began again. Great flotsams that threatened to engulf the boat. But they did not turn back, for their greed was too great, and not a yard closer to the island the waves overpowered them, sending their bodies down to the beast that lay beneath.

Isabella emerged from the cabin just before dawn, her hair hung loose down her back, blowing in the gentle wind. The sky was just beginning to lighten, the sun diffusing through the thin white cloud cover. She picked up her skirt as she climbed the three steps up to the helm where Edward stood.

"Good morning," he said, greeting her with a deep kiss. She smiled up at him, before replying in kind.

"Back to dresses again?" He asked, smiling.

"Yes, for the last time too. I simply cannot bear those breeches." After being on the ship for almost a year, Isabella finally became sick of water logged skirts and the long hems constantly getting in her way. So she fashioned herself a few pairs of breeches, but she found them so dreadfully uncomfortable; she simply could not abide them, though she tried them again every few months. However, she had finally given up, and so instead she wore thin cotton dresses, their hems cut to her ankles, so as not to get under her feet.

"Well I like you better this way," Edward said, leaning in close and wrapping an arm about her small waist. "It's much easier should we get a moment alone," he whispered seductively. Isabella smirked as he pulled back, smiling wide.

"Bloody hell, would you two give it a rest?"

The two love birds separated, laughing all the while as they turned to Emmett, who stood at the helm. For seventeen he was a big lad, and it had amazed Isabella to watch him grow these years. He had been so thin and weedy when they had first met, back in Port Royal, but now he was practically a man. He stood taller than his father, Carlisle, by nearly a half foot, and he was as broad as an ox, nearly as powerful too. He would make some woman very lucky one day, she knew.

"Oh come now, Emmett," Isabella said, sidling up to him. "One day you'll meet a girl and I highly doubt she'll be able to keep her hands off of you, not that you'll let her, I'm sure."

"Now don't be teasing the lad."

"I could not resist, Carlisle." Isabella said as she turned to smile at the older man.

The last four years had added more lines to his face, but his eyes still held their spark, and his words were always kind, to her at least. Carlisle reminded her of her father, Charles, a man she still missed every day, but Carlisle was working to fill that gap in her life. Not long after her arrival on the Breaking Dawn he had discovered her love of chess, and as the only sailor on the ship able to play they had spent many a long night battling each other. Edward would have felt most put out, had it not been so entertaining to watch them duel.

Carlisle smiled, patting Isabella gently upon her arm before striding to stand beside his son. He looked out to the placid sea, the calmest it had been in a long time to be sure.

"A day's sail from Tortuga," he said, turning to face Edward.

"Aye, hopefully we'll run in to no Brethren's of the Coast."

"Who are they?" Isabella asked. Fours years was not long enough to learn all the pirate's turns of phrase, she was beginning to think she never would learn it all.

"Buccaneers," Edward replied, "mostly English. They attack Spanish ships in the name of the King, thinking it makes them better than the rest of us."

Isabella nodded, leaning back against the wooden siding. "And Tortuga is…"

"A stopping point. We can stock up, have a decent nights sleep on dry land. The men can whet their wicks some, if they so choose." At this he smirked across to where Emmett stood blushing at the wheel. Isabella lent towards Edward, tapping him lightly on his arm and giving him a reproachful look; he shouldn't tease poor Emmett so.

"Any plans after that?" Isabella asked.

"Not a one," Edward laughed, wrapping her up in his arms. "We've to sell on what we took from that last ship, but we'll listen to the word on Tortuga, see if we can catch anything."

"Right, well I'm off below. We've still got some of those potatoes you stole from the Spanish, I'm thinking a stew?" Edward nodded and Isabella smiled, kissing his cheek before returning back into the bowels of the ship.

Her life had been exactly as she'd imagined it when she set sail with Edward. The world was their oyster, and they took it for all it was worth. Travelling suited Isabella, and she found she never missed the monotony that was Jamaica, though she did miss the variety of food available. While her life aboard the Breaking Dawn had been joyful, it was not always easy. It was a pirate ship after all, and not a very well kept one at that. Flooding occurred more than it should, and food was spoiled easily. But she quickly took over the running of the kitchen, making sure the crew ate well and everyday; she seemed to have a knack for making the rations last.

Once in the kitchen she set about making great vats of potato stew. It was intensive work, and kept her hands busy, which today was the main priority; she was nervous about stepping back onto land, though she always was. However, Tortuga was close to Jamaica, the closest she had been to the dreaded island since they had dropped anchor in Havana, and while she didn't think her Uncle would ever dare set foot on a pirate stronghold, she could not stop the anxiety from gripping her.

Isabella and Philip's paths had crossed only once since Edward had kidnapped her, all those years before. The memory of that meeting haunted her still. It was a time she never wished to return to.

For the rest of the day she sweated in the kitchen, swaying with the occasional movements of the ship. With the stew boiling Isabella set about with her other duty; cleaning. The men aboard ship were an untidy lot, and it was certainly a shock for her after living in such a sterile house her whole life. But she adapted quickly; after taking it upon herself to make things just a little more comfortable.

As the sky grew dark she was back in the kitchen, dishing out stew and stale soda bread for the hungry sailors. They were two hours from port when Edward finally made his way below deck, taking his bowl with a kiss.

"Delicious, Bella," he said, smiling as she sat beside him.

"Will I enjoy Tortuga?" she asked. There was a familiar excitement brewing within her, that arose whenever they were about to dock somewhere new.

"I hope so. But you should be careful," he warned. "Stay close to me, it's a dangerous island."

Isabella smiled, moving close to her beloved. "Being beside you is the only place I ever wish to be."

Candles flickered and a hearty fire roared, though the tavern was hot enough without it. The music was loud, the ale was free, and Edward was drunk.

Isabella was dancing with Carlisle, allowing him to twist her and spin her till her eyes were crossed. It was the most fun she'd had in a very long time; she simply could not stop laughing. With every turn she looked towards Edward, slapping his hand upon the table, laughing long and loud as he swayed in place.

"Edward has drunk his weight in rum!" she exclaimed.

"I think my son's on his way to joining him," Carlisle replied, nodding to the corner where Emmett stood, drink in hand as he spoke to a beautiful blonde. For all his blushing and awkwardness about Edward and Isabella, a ladies man he was; one who knew how to enjoy a woman's body, too.

When Carlisle grew tired he retired to the long table at which Edward and other's from the crew sat, leaving Isabella to dance with some of the other ladies – mostly whores – from the island.

"Your lass is a fine one," one of the men said, speaking loudly to Edward so as to be heard over the ruckus.

"Aye she's bonny like," another concurred.

Edward laughed, tossing back what was left in his tankard. "Well be mindful o' keepin' your hands off her, won't you?"

The table was filled with raucous laughter as Carlisle stood once more, eyeing the swaying men about him.

"Another round, lads?" he asked, receiving agreements all round.

"Where to next then, Cap'n?" One of the sailors, a dark skinned man by the name of Luca, asked.

"No fucken clue, lad. Wherever the wind takes us!"

Just then a man, unknown to the crew of the Breaking Dawn, sat down opposite Edward, who was not so drunk as to not be wary of this newcomer. All around the men grew quiet, as they waited for the man to speak while they took him in, as their captain did. He was a man to be sure, though he was barely more than a boy; younger than Emmett. His hair was blond, hanging in filthy tendrils around a thin pale face. His eyes were blue, but hollow; he had seen disaster to be sure.

"What do you want, boy?" Edward asked, squinting to see him through the haze of alcohol about him.

"I have a better idea," the boy said, his voice barely a whisper in the rowdy tavern.

"Idea for what?"

"Of where to sail to, Captain Cullen."

"Oh aye, and where's that?" Edward asked, patronising the boy to be sure, but he couldn't be done with men who tried to get on his ship.

"Tiakwen."

"There be no such place, laddie," the man next to Edward slurred, laughing with the others.

"You're talking about a dream world," Luca concurred, though he did not laugh, and neither did Edward. Both had heard the talk of this island, of the treasures hidden within its mysterious depths. No man could breach the shore, and any that did would meet with a very sticky end.

"Oh it's as real as you or me, sirs. I should know; I've seen it."

"You've seen Tiakwen?" Edward asked. His mind was clearing, the fog lifting as he listened to this young man speak. Tiakwen was a bed time story to him, an old wives tale for pirates. They all wished to find it though, no matter how foolish they thought the stories.

"Aye, Captain. There were only ten of us aboard the Moonraker that survived. Our Captain was mad, sir. Kept sending men out in the boats, but each time an unnatural wave would break, tossing them out and into the sea. They say there's a monster down there, and from what I've seen, I believe them."

"This island, where is it?"

The lad bit his lip, twisting and turning his hands upon the table top. Just then Isabella wandered over, she had noticed when Edward's laughter had stopped, and curious as ever needed to know the reason. She placed a hand upon his shoulder; a silent question asked and replied as he placed his own calloused palm atop hers.

"It's difficult to say, sir. South-west of here by a long way."

Edward frowned, thinking over what this boy was implying. "Passed Argentina?"

"Not so far south. We set sail from La Ligua, and sailed due west for four days and nights. On the fifth day Tiakwen became visible."

Edward frowned. It would be a long trip to La Ligua from Tortuga, but not impossible, and it was Tiakwen. The stories of its gold had been much exaggerated he was sure, but to be the man who penetrated its shores. The idea was far too tempting.

"What's your name?" Edward asked.

"Jasper, sir. Jasper Whitlock."

"Well, Whitlock, welcome to the crew of the Breaking Dawn."

It had taken them almost a month. Four weeks of blazing sun and rampant storms, of ripped sails and battered men. The ship had seen better days, as had the crew. But they had finally reached La Ligua.

Isabella had found herself mistrusting of Jasper Whitlock within the first few days of their journey, she could not help but wonder what his motive was. Why go back to this island when so many of your crew men had been killed on its strange tides? Surely he should have been warning men off the trip, yet there he was, encouraging Edward's wild imaginings.

"Four days?" Edward was asking Jasper, as they stood near the helm. Isabella was watching them with Emmett, leaning back against the siding. He was a puzzle, one she _needed_ to solve, for there was something inside of her screaming that he could not be trusted.

"Don't you just want off this bloody boat," Emmett grumbled.

"More than anything in my life," she agreed.

"Only four, sir. Do you intend to sail into port, or continue straight on?"

"'_Only four, sir_'," Emmett mocked. Isabella barely contained her laughter. He did Jasper's transatlantic tones so well. "Wish he'd just shut his trap."

"We'll be docking. The men need a break, as do I."

"Thank the Lord," Isabella muttered, before traipsing off below deck to gather up her dirty dresses; while on land she would get them clean.

Two hours later saw all the men housed in either the main tavern or one of the many brothels scattered around the town of La Ligua. Thankfully Isabella had managed to acquire a surprisingly tidy room for her and Edward to share. She collapsed quickly upon the mattress, eyes closed and arms slung wide as soon as she reached it, and by the time Edward joined her after getting the ship emptied she was practically asleep.

He smiled as he toed off his boots, untucking his shirt as he sauntered over to the bed, slinging his coat and hat across the lone chair as he went. He sat upon the mattress gently, simply taking in Isabella's beauty as he was want to. Four years and still he could not believe that this amazing creature was his, that she had run away with him in the end. He could imagine loving no one as much as he loved her. Her delicate skin had never darkened, it only flushed pink should the sun become too much. Her lips were as full and dark as ever, and her features were as petite as they always were.

Gently, he leant to run a finger across her forehead, brushing the lush brown hair that had fallen across it over her shoulder. At the touch she shifted, blinking slowly as she came slowly from her partial slumber.

"Hello," she whispered her voice weak with sleep.

"Good evening, my love."

Isabella smiled dozily when Edward placed a soft kiss upon her nose.

"My beautiful girl, were you going to sleep?" He asked, lying down beside her. She nodded blearily, though she was slowly becoming aware of the proximity of Edward's warm body to hers. "We can't have that," he tutted.

"Why not?" As she spoke she stretched, pushing her body close to his, delighting in the hand he placed on her hip, the heat soaking through the thin cotton of her dress.

"I had plans for our one night alone, who knows when we'll get another?"

Isabella smirked as she lazily curled her arms about his neck, stroking soft at the hair at the back of it while taking pleasure in the soft shivers that rocked through him.

"Yes, the ship has been terribly crowded as of late."

"Oh now," Edward smiled slightly, before leaning in to place kisses along her neck around his words. "Does my darling dislike a certain Mr Whitlock?"

"She might," Isabella rolled her eyes before gasping in pleasure. "Now what were these plans of yours?"

Edward smirked, spinning to pin her beneath him, speaking not a word as he removed her dress. His hands were rough but sent such tingles throughout her. Such a talent as he sent her to peak after peak. Hearts raced fast and breaths gasped sighs, as they moved together; moving as one with knees bent, arms straining, and nails scratching down backs. The heat was intense and skin was slick as lips clashed. Their crescendo was quick, but no less pleasurable for it, and they fell into sleep entwined and entangled in a mess of sheets.

It had been near to exactly four days at sea; sailing due west, and all was tense aboard the ship. Every man knew to what they were sailing; some were certain, others dubious, but all were hopeful of what they would find. Edward stood at the helm with Jenson steering and Isabella by his side. Jasper stood with Emmett and Carlisle at the prow, praying for that first sight of an island.

"It has to be soon," Edward muttered. Isabella glanced towards her beloved; she hoped this island was not a myth, nor some wild chase Jasper had sent them on. If they did not come upon an island soon she was sure Edward's heart would break.

But then something appeared, like a ghost upon the horizon, shimmering in the early morning cloud, a mirage on the ocean. At once the crew drew in breath, daring not to disturb what they hoped this meant.

The island rose, appearing monumentously from the fog. Bone white sand was visible, bleeding from the pure turquoise of the surf. From there it was nothing but green leading to the volcanic heart of Tiakwen, the mountain from which the island took its name. There was a shimmering haze surrounding the isle, as if by magic it had just materialised. The crew were transfixed.

Half a mile from the shore they dropped anchor. The splash of the iron hitting the water was enough to jolt the sailors from their stupor. All was ago as they prepared the boats to take them ashore.

"After everything Jasper said, we're still going in boats?" Isabella asked.

"Well, _we_ are," Edward replied.

"Do not try to keep me here, you know it won't work." Edward smiled and shrugged. He knew Isabella would never be left behind, but this was an unknown and he would never stop worrying for her safety.

In the first boat went Edward, Isabella and four members of the crew; Luca, James, Peter and Simon. In the second followed Emmett, Carlisle, Jasper, Jenson and Henry. The rest of the men stayed aboard the ship, and if and when the boats made it to shore a third boat would follow.

They bobbed along slowly upon the waves. Everything seemed reasonably calm. But Edward refused to be taken by surprise; he was reaching that shore, no matter what.

For a while all was calm, the sea they floated upon was tranquil and serene. The shore was growing larger and coming closer, and everyone believed that they would make it unscathed. But as they were so close they could have walked, the sea turned. Like a snake that had been lying in wait, it pounced. Great white plumes of flotsam and jetsam sent their tiny boats catapulting into the air and the people inside them tumbling into the water.

Edward and Isabella stuck close and struck out for the shore, for a brief moment both were sure they saw something in the deep, something dark moving with the tides, just waiting to pull them down to its depths. They were not aware of the other's struggling on, of Carlisle helping Emmett through the frightening waves or of Simon suddenly vanishing beneath them and Luca pulling him back. They did not see Jasper, that odd glint in his eye as he removed a blade from his boot and used it to slash Henry's throat, sending him down to the depths below.

As Henry's limp form vanished below the waves, the sea calmed as though satisfied with the sacrifice. The remainder of the bedraggled crew pulled themselves from the surf, collapsing quick to the shore.

"Shall I signal to the other boat, sir?" Luca asked Edward, though he made no move to stand up.

"I wouldn't, they'll never make it across. It's a miracle _we_ did!" Jasper exclaimed; Edward agreed.

"Aye I agree," Edward said as he stood, before reaching down to help Isabella from the sand. "Which way do you suppose?"

"This way," Jasper spoke up, pointing north west into the trees. "Our Captain had a map, I remember, the initial line led you north west, then due north through the trees."

"You're sure?" Carlisle asked.

Jasper looked slightly affronted but simply shrugged. "Do you have a better idea?"

None of the men spoke and so they traipsed after Jasper into the dappled gloom of the forest. The sand radiated such heat, even as they stepped beneath the large leaves.

Isabella was fascinated. She had seen jungle before, and had spent many afternoons exploring the woodland around her father's country estate when she was young, but this was like stepping into another world entirely. There were plants here she was sure she'd never seen anywhere else before. Exotic flowers and smells and leaves and coloured barks. It was distracting and awe inspiring all at once. Were it not for Edward's hand in hers she would have become lost.

"This way," Jasper called, veering quickly left and further into the jungle.

None of the men questioned Jasper on his directions; after all they had witnessed the spectacle that was his magnificent memory first hand. So as he continued leading them further and further into the island, no one said a word.

They had been climbing slightly for quite a while, the earth beneath them was covered in grasses and ferns that they waded through, and the light that shone upon them was steadily becoming brighter as they approached mid-day. Just as they appeared to crest a hill, the light cut through the branches at such an angle to nearly blind them. Isabella heard Jenson shout from beside her, and she turned in just enough time to watch him slip quickly from view.

"Get back!" She called, pushing Edward behind her as she moved from the cavern edge.

Below them was at least a fifty foot drop into some sort of underwater cave. Jenson had not resurfaced; the water was too fast flowing.

"Where are you leading us?" Emmett asked, aggressively marching to Jasper, who looked not at all phased by the anger being projected at him.

"How was I to know that was there? He should have been looking where he was going."

"Why do you not simply admit that you have no clue where you're going?" Isabella accused.

"Well if you have a better idea, by all means," he retorted; Isabella kept quiet.

"Look," James spoke up. He strolled to the centre of the group, re-rolling his dirty shirt sleeves to his elbows as he went. "How about Simon, Peter and I head east, while you all continue west."

"And if you should find something?" Carlisle asked.

Peter pulled his pistol from his trousers, it had dried out and he gestured to the sky with it. "We'll send a shot up."

The rest of the men agreed and the smaller group broke off, with a promise to meet in the middle should they find nothing. Edward wished them all luck, before he continued after Jasper with Isabella in tow; Carlisle, Emmett and Luca continued behind.

Isabella couldn't stop the uneasiness growing in her belly as they walked. Jasper was so aloof, so independent of the others. He had such callousness to him, such a strange fearlessness. Edward was the bravest man she had ever met, yet even he had fear in him. Jasper seemed oddly empty.

Eventually they hit the base of a sheer cliff, and Isabella wondered, not for the first time, just how big this island was. Jasper led them along the cliff face, muttering as he went. He seemed to be looking for something, and after walking around one hundred paces he exclaimed in triumph at the entrance to a cave.

"In here," he said, heading into the dark without waiting for them to follow.

Confused, but trusting, they followed behind, Isabella hanging back. The cave was dank, the walls damp and covered with glowing lichen. The small group of adventurers had walked barely three metres before flaming torches came violently into their vision. Here the cave opened up into a strange living space. There was such a pungent smell of rotting meat emanating from the area before them, and the walls around them held a strange bloody glow. Isabella, leaning close to the stone, ran one delicate finger along the rock; pulling it back it came away dripping red. She gasped and stepped back, looking up to notice dead eyes looking down upon her; eyes of ravens, exotic birds, and shrunken heads.

"Jasper," a voice rasped from the dark centre of the cave, "you've returned."

"I said I would, and I brought those you asked for."

Isabella stepped back, her heart thrumming in her chest as the owner of the voice came into view. It was a woman, after a fashion, her emaciated body shrouded in oversized shawls. Her skin was white as paper and looked as thin too, her jaw and chin were prominent, and the dim light made her glassy eyes look shrunken and skull like. She fell into a chair, those hollow eyes piercing through them, as she ran one skeletal hand through the matted spikes of black hair.

"You done a good job, Jasper. Go sit, I be with you shortly." It was an island accent, one like Carla's had been, but unlike Carla's this woman's raspy tones sent horrified shivers down Isabella's spine. They'd walked right into a trap.

"Got to say, I'm surprised you made it this far. But I taught Jasper well 'bout how to get on and off Tiakwen. Nice to see you made it safe."

"Who are you?" Edward asked. His hand was wrapped tight in Isabella's and she could feel the nervous heat emanating from him.

"I am Alice, and I watch over this island."

"And you had Mr Whitlock bring us here?" He accused.

"Why of course. I needed you, both of you."

Isabella frowned, stepping out from behind Edward to face this strange woman. In this new light she could see Alice's eyes, one red, like that of an albino, the other blue, the colour of the ocean on a bright summer's day. It was startlingly disturbing.

"You needed me, also," she said. It was asked like a question but Isabella knew it was true in her heart.

"Ah, Isabella," Alice sighed, steepling her fingers, "and her _intuition_; such a gift. Helpful, is it not?"

"It gets me by."

"I'm sure."

"Why did you have us brought here?" Edward interjected. He was growing tired of the charade, and he knew Emmett, Carlisle, and Luca were growing nervous with the prolonged exposure to this strange creature.

"Such a love you have," Alice continued, speaking to the both of them, as though Edward had not opened his mouth at all. "To risk it all as you have, to have lost so much between you. Makes you strong, it does; determined."

"That does not answer the question as to why you had us brought here, and why Mr Whitlock?" Isabella said. She stood beside Edward, their hands clasped between them in solidarity against this peculiar entity.

"Jasper looks after me, he keeps me safe and helps me care for Tiakwen," Alice replied. The longer Isabella looked at her, the younger she realised Alice was. Her hair was thin, and her body was wasted, but her eyes were alight with youth, her skin looked firm though thin in the strange light. It only added to the frightening quality of this obviously wise woman.

Alice could see Isabella sizing her up, attempting to understand her, and smiled. "I'm as old as this island Miss Swan, it would do you well to put it from your mind." Isabella nodded, shocked at being so transparent. "Now, as to why I brought you here, I need you to do something for me."

"What?" Edward asked.

"I'm sure you've heard of the treasure that lies here, buried an awful long time ago by a very old pirate. This pirate enraged a great voodoo priestess, and so was cursed. He could never leave the island, and no one would ever be able to breach her shore. Of course, we know that's not true, don't we?" Alice smirked.

"We know the story," Carlisle spoke up. The legend of Tiakwen was nothing more than a fairy story sailors told their children, nothing more than that.

"I don't," Isabella said, turning back to Alice's smirking form.

"Then I shall continue, yes?" At Isabella's nod, Alice spoke on in her raspy tones, "People came and went, but none could find the treasure. If the great monster who resides beneath the island didn't get them, then one of the other beasties surely would, and that's after they managed to find her of course. So, centuries have passed, the pirate could not leave, and so neither can I."

"You want us to rescue him? So you can leave?" Isabella asked.

"Not him, he's not there no more. He's long dead now. What I need is a ruby, it's big, the size of a closed fist, can't miss it. Bring that to me, and I'll allow you the rest of the treasures, and I'll allow you to leave."

Isabella stood back, turning to face Edward. She had a feeling this would not be as simple as Alice made it sound. Edward's brows were drawn together, thinking over her proposal. He was feeling foolish; he had been tricked by Jasper, tricked into believing him trustworthy. He would not make the same mistake again.

"And how do we know you'll keep your end of the bargain, to allow us to leave?"

"Believe me boy, I'll let you go. Keeping you here would be of no use to me."

Silence reigned once more, and Isabella took the moment to look to Jasper. He was huddled in a corner of the cave, staring blankly to the opposite wall. She wondered if Alice was as old as the island itself, how old did that make Jasper? She was brought from her thoughts by Edward, agreeing to Alice's offer.

"I want it by midnight," Alice said as she stood. She took Jasper by the hand and began heading into the dark recesses of the cave, talking low as she went. "Stick to the cliff face, you'll come to some steps. Climb them. Then head due north to the volcano, you'll reach a cave, that's where you'll find the treasure. Good luck."

Then she was gone, taking the light with her and leaving the shocked group of adventurers in the dark.

After making their way from the cave the small group walked in silence along the base of the cliff. It did not take them long to find the stone steps Alice spoke of, though they were more natural crag formations that actual steps. They trod cautiously as they ascended.

Isabella held her skirts carefully, it would not do to trip and fall to her death now, and not when she was sure that she was needed in some way. Alice said she'd needed both of them, why? Could it be simply that Isabella was needed to aid Edward, or was it that she was a woman? After all, she doubted many of the pirate crews who had landed here had a female member of their crew. Perhaps that was it.

As they reached the peak they stopped. They had broken through the tree line and come out into brilliant sunshine. Here the forest was pushed back, affording them an impressive view of the island; it was much bigger than any of them anticipated.

"We'll stop here," Edward said as he sat upon the springy earth.

The rest of the men followed suit, legs splayed before them, resting back on their hands while they turned their faces to the sky. Isabella remained aloft casting her eyes along the horizon. All around the isle was perfect blue; bright and cheerful. She feared the island's idyllic atmosphere was naught but a farce; a lure to entice them.

She turned her gaze to the mountain they were headed for; it was tall but wide, making it squat and something not to be feared. But Isabella knew of volcanoes, of their fiery centres and cataclysmic effects. She could only hope it would remain in its dormant sleep. As she was looking up, above the tree tops to the great mouth of Tiakwen a great scream rang out across the air. Birds shot like fireworks into the sky, their squawking loud and frightening, and she jumped where she stood.

"What was that?" She asked. Her body was tense, on guard for any threat breaking the tree line.

"It sounded like Simon," Luca said, as he came to stand next to her. His dark skin glistened with sweat, while his wide deep eyes squinted in confusion and worry for his crew mate.

"Should we go to them?" Isabella asked Edward, grasping onto his hand as he, Emmett and Carlisle stepped up next to her and Luca.

"We should not leave them," he replied, pulling the sword from the scabbard hanging at his waist; the rest of the men also pulled forth swords, before heading as one into the shadow of the forest.

Edward's heart raced as he stepped carefully through the bracken. Here the trees grew wilder than they had on the plateau below them, their roots pushed against one another, twisting and turning to create gruesome shadows in the oddly angled light. This island had him on edge, his heart was constantly thrumming hard against his ribs, and his body was continuously on alert, tensed and ready for a fight. Alice's words reverberated through his mind, words of other beasts that lived upon this island. He refused to allow the thought that they would not be leaving this island to enter into his mind; while simultaneously he could not remove the idea from his stream of consciousness.

How he wished Isabella had stayed upon the Breaking Dawn. Worry for her safety, far surpassing that of his own never diminished, and would not be ignored; it was such a distraction. Of course to tell her this would make him as good as dead, he knew. He chuckled lightly as the thought of her anger should she ever discover his thoughts.

Suddenly, they came upon another opening in the earth, like that which Jenson had tumbled into, though thankfully they all saw it before one of them fell into it. It was as though the cave roof had fallen in, exposing the still pool beneath. Light shafted through the trees, illuminating the oasis beneath them, from which voices could be heard.

"Peter! Simon!" Luca called. No reply was heard.

"We should go down," Carlisle said. He had already begun walking to a sloping embankment that led right into the base of the cavern.

"Isabella, you and Emmett wait here," Edward said, following behind Luca and Carlisle without waiting for her reply. She huffed but sat upon the earth at Emmett's feet.

The embankment Edward walked upon was slippery, and it did not take them long to land on solid earth at the edge of the glowing pool. The voices seemed to be coming from their right, and they began walking around the circumference of the pool, sticking to the edge but not being able to keep their eyes off the glowing water. There seemed such a magical quality to it, the men were fascinated with it.

As they reached the side of the cave, hidden from the world above by the ceiling as yet intact, where the voices had seemed to be coming from they found no one. Frowning they split up to explore the small expanse of rock to see if anyone was hiding in the dark, but no, there was no one there, yet the voices continued. Though when Edward listened hard, he realised they were not men's voices, but women's. Voices that were coming closer, from the water.

As one they turned and found they could move no more. At the shore by their feet were three of the most beautiful and exotic creatures any of the men had ever seen. Blonde hair tumbled in waves around sultry faces; skin slightly green, shining as though enchanted, and eyes big, blue and opalescent. Their lips were pouting, and as pink as conch shells. Yet it was not just their beauty that shocked them, it was the purple, red, and green fish tails that protruded behind them.

Edward could barely believe it; mermaids, here! He had heard stories of course; his father had always spun tales of these angels of the sea. But he had never imagined that such creatures could truly exist. As the first opened her mouth, speaking in such a sweet voice, the men found themselves hypnotised and unable to move.

"Such beauties," she said, her voice watery and echoing about the cave, "to have found your way this far, so brave."

"Tell us, how did you find your way here?" The second asked, pulling herself up to sit upon the bank, exposing her voluptuous breasts to the men, smirking as they became transfixed with her glorious curves.

"Alice," Carlisle answered, voice monotone.

"Ah, that old witch," the last mermaid spoke, her voice like the melodic song of bells, "such a meddling thing she is, though we should thank her, for bringing us such men as you."

Leaning forward, the second mermaid, sitting upon the rock grasped onto Edward's outstretched hand, her webbed fingers wrapping securely about his wrist. Slowly she tugged him forward till the toes of his boots just brushed the water.

"You do look tasty," she murmured, running her eyes hungrily along his frame, "I'll eat you first, but save a little for later."

As she spoke her face changed, where there once were curves replaced by sharp angles and deep black eyes, the darkness completely obscuring the white. Her lips parted to reveal a single row of razor sharp teeth. Yet Edward went willingly as she began to drag him behind her into the depths of the pool.

The gunshot startled all, the bullet ripped through the demonic mermaids arm, dislodging her grip on Edward and jolting him and the other men from their stupor. Confused he shook his head, turning sharply to where the gunshot had rang out from.

Isabella stood, hands outstretched around the brass gun. Her face was a mask of fury; her eyes alight with righteous indignation. Yet such shock painted her features also, before she stalked towards Edward, grabbed him by the shirtsleeves and dragged him sharply back the way she had come.

"How stupid do you have to be?" She exclaimed as they breached the open air once more. "Following behind that monster like that! Do you have no sense of self preservation?"

But Edward was entirely distracted by what had just gone on to be at all phased by her anger. "Did you just shoot a mermaid?"

"I shot a fucking cunt is what I did," she growled as she stalked along the grass, gun shaking at her side.

"I had no idea you could ever shoot a gun," he mumbled.

"Oh please Edward, I lived with my uncle for how many years, my uncle who relished in making me hurt. I know how to defend myself." Shaking she turned, brandishing the barrel of the gun in Edward's direction. His hands hit the sky faster than she had ever seen. "Remember that; I can shoot a gun, rather impressively too as you saw, the next time you fancy being led astray by some….some…harlot!"

Feeling thoroughly chastised Edward's shoulders dropped as Isabella paced. She sighed, exasperated by the weakness of men.

"Perhaps we should keep moving?" Emmett said, attempting to diffuse the awkward tension.

In silent agreement they walked on, away from cave and back into the jungle. Isabella did not remove her grip on the pistol; Edward kept one eye upon her at all times. In truth she was not really angry at him, watching him being led into that pool was one of the most frightening moments of her life. Her heart had jumped to her throat and her palms had sweat. Before pulling the trigger she had been a jittering mess. In all honesty she was surprised she even managed to hit the mermaid.

The trees and plants grew thick where they walked, and more than once Isabella's skirts snagged on trailing branches and thorns. Vines hung low over their heads, while around them all was silent. There was no other sound save that of their feet as they walked towards the volcano.

"Do you find it odd?" Isabella asked.

"What?" Carlisle replied.

"The silence," she stated, to no reply.

All were anxious of this place. Of the ominous warnings from Alice and the mysterious and deadly creatures they had encountered so far. All minds were turned to completing their mission and getting off of this island.

"I'm hungry," Emmett finally complained, the third time his stomach had growled from emptiness.

"We should eat," Edward stated, stopping his march to survey the area around them.

They had been walking for hours, and were all hot, sweaty, and dirty from the hike. Isabella's ankles stung from the many scratches gouged into them from the thorny undergrowth, and she was grateful for the momentary respite.

Emmett had already headed out into the surrounding forest, and returned mere moments later with arms laden with curved yellow fruit.

"It was the only thing I could find, but they look edible, right?" He asked, dumping them upon the ground between them.

"They're called bananas Emmett, my father used to keep them upon his ships," Isabella smiled as she leant forward to grab a fruit and began to peel it.

Emmett pulled a face but sat quickly upon the ground beside his father, as they all tucked into the rather firm fruit. None had noticed how hungry they had gotten, what with all the excitement going on. Isabella was beginning to wish they had never come to this island, and sat close to Edward, enjoying his heat and praying that they got away from this place safely.

"Do you smell that?" Luca asked, startling them in the silence.

All noses turned to the air, trying to scent whatever it was that had Luca so excited.

"Yes, I can," Emmett exclaimed, jumping to his feet and turning to face the apparent source of this smell. Isabella couldn't smell a thing, and was terribly confused until a waft of something drifted by her. It smelt of herbs and warmth, and a strange smell of cooking meat.

"Someone must be through there!" She shouted, pointing into the trees. "Perhaps it's the others?"

Bananas were dropped as Edward and Carlisle joined them on their feet and began tearing through the brush towards that delightful smell. All were hoping to find Peter, James, and Simon. Being separated on this terrifying island was not a good thing they had divined.

Seeing smoke up ahead they hurtled on, legs moving as fast as they could through the undergrowth, but as they broke through the trees into a man made clearing, what they saw brought them up short, fast.

"What on earth?" Carlisle uttered.

Before them were three men, naked save for strange woven belts about their middles, that left nothing to the imagination. Their skin was dark, though lighter than Luca's, and their ribs were visible through the thin layer of muscle and sinew. Their legs were bandy and long, their arms the same. Black hair hung loose down their backs, secured from their faces with bands of what looked, to Isabella, like bones.

But it was not the men's strange appearance that had their stomachs turning and their hearts racing, it was what was roasting on the spit they crouched around. Looking towards them were the dead eyes of James, milky in death, his skin rippling from the heat of the fire and almost black. Emmett could not stop from gagging.

Isabella recovered first, Edward following close behind, as she brandished the brass pistol, both hands used to hold it steady as she pointed it to the tallest of the three men. The three strangers had noticed the invaders, but did not stand and showed very little interest in them. That was, of course, until swords were drawn upon them.

"What have you done?" Edward asked his voice cold and hard as he kept his eyes trained on the barbarians.

The naked men merely cocked their heads. Evidently they did not understand English. This did not deter Edward however as he strode forth, bypassing the fire and the gruesome corpse of his crew-man and set the tip of his rapier against the throat of the largest man.

"Where are the others?" He asked. The rage was barely contained; Isabella had not seen him like this in a long time. She felt a shiver of anticipation flow through her as she watched him transform.

Again the men looked confused, until the one on the left beside the largest seemed to understand what Edward wanted, and pointed to the edge of the clearing. Carlisle followed the direction of the man's outstretched finger to the base of a tree where a neat pile of bones was stacked, atop which stood two skulls, the flesh partially removed. He returned to his son with a grim set to his features.

"Dead," he said to Edward.

The words were barely off his lips before Edward's sword had sliced clean through the largest man's throat. There was a terrible noise, like water glugging through a narrow hole, as he choked on his own blood. His companions watched as their leader collapsed, before turning angry, yet scared eyes upon the man who had killed him.

Edward moved calmly back to Isabella's side, wiping the blood from his sword as he did so. Her heart was racing, and she felt that familiar pang of guilt she got every time she witnessed Edward kill someone, guilt from the sick pleasure it brought her.

"Let's continue," he said, gripping tight to her hand and pulling her back into the trees.

"We're leaving them?" Luca asked.

"Yes." No one argued with their captain.

After walking for what felt like miles they finally reached the base of the great volcano. Here was the only plateau, and they circled slightly until finding the entrance to the cave. There had been no talk as they had left the cannibal's camp, for no one truly had anything to say. It had been disgusting, and certainly not something they wished to repeat and no one knew quite what to say. They simply wished to be free from this island and the misfortune that had befallen them.

The cave was cold, but it did not give Isabella chills as Alice's had. Lichen grew here, glowing green and lighting their way as they manoeuvred through. The walls were smooth, almost as though someone had carved them and Isabella rested her hand upon them so as to stay upright on the uneven ground. It did not take them long to reach the cavern within.

The cave opened up, the ceiling seemed to go on forever, and Isabella realised they must have reached the very centre of Tiakwen. The cavern was empty, save for a mound in the very middle of it. Slowly the adventurers approached until they surrounded it. What they had thought was earth turned out to be numerous wooden trunks, at once all of their hearts sped. Could this be the treasure?

Atop the treasure slumped a skeleton, bones white and completely clean of any flesh; it had obviously been down there for a long time. This had to be the captain Alice spoke about. In his rib cage, where his heart used to beat, sat a ruby. Isabella leaned forward, grasping hold of it; it was exactly the size of her fist.

"This is it," she whispered into the dark.

"Each of you grab a chest," Edward said grasping one in his own hands. "And let's get the bloody hell off this island."

"You done good."

Isabella had never thought that hearing Alice's raspy tones could be soothing, but as they stood back in her cave, arms laden with treasure chests, hearing Alice speak was the only thing they wished for.

She sat slumped in her chair, Jasper back in his corner staring at the wall, running the ruby between her thin palms. Her bi-coloured eyes were alight as she turned them upon the five travellers.

"There's a boat at the shore, continue back the way you came and it'll be there. It'll take you back to your ship."

At this the men began to turn, as though to leave. But Isabella stood still, staring into Alice's eyes. There were so many questions, and she found that no matter how much she wished to leave, she couldn't until she got answers.

"Yes, child?" Alice asked, smirking slightly.

"You never did tell us why you needed Edward and me."

"Well now, a man needs his woman don't he? And not just in the bedroom. Men are fools for a pretty face, and there be three very pretty faces just waiting for foolish men."

"Was that it then?" Isabella scoffed. "Simply that I'm a woman that sails with a pirate ship?"

"What else is there?"

At this Isabella paused; she had no answer.

"What are you going to do with that anyway?" She gestured to the glistening ruby.

"Something I've been wanting to do for a very long time."

"Which is?" Isabella persisted.

"Lord, child. Must you know everything?"

"When we risked our lives to get you that, when five of our companions died today; yes, I must."

"I'm getting off this god forsaken island. And you'd be best to go now."

Edward tugged hard on Isabella's arm, pulling her but a foot from the centre of Alice's cave. Suddenly Alice stood, the movement so out of sorts with her frail frame, all retreating movement of the pirates stopped. Her eyes blazed in the darkness, as sparks of energy crackled about her. There was a glow emanating from the very core of her, lighting her skin from the inside out, it was so bright Isabella had to shield her eyes. Through the light Alice transformed, her skin filling out, though still it remained sickly pale. Her posture straightened, and her hair lengthened to her waist. As the light dissipated, they were left staring into the smirking eyes of a terribly beautiful woman.

"Who are you?" Isabella muttered.

"My name is Alice, as you know. Three hundred years ago I cursed the pirate Bartholomew Stoke to my island. But the old fool stole my ruby, trapped me in this cave. Now I can leave."

Said ruby began to glow, pulsing like a heartbeat, lighting Alice's face and sending strange shadows about her. Jasper cowered in his corner, placing his arms protectively over his head as he began to rock. The earth beneath them shook.

"What are you doing?" Isabella shouted.

"Getting off this island, you better run."

And as the next tremor shook the cave, sending shrunken heads tumbling from the wall, that's exactly what they did, as fast as they could.

Outside the cave all was dark, with only the full moons glow as guidance through the treacherous jungle. They ran as swift as they could, while attempting to remember the way they had first come. They passed the cavern, down which Jenson had tumbled; Edward caught quickly to Isabella's arm as she shrieked and nearly fell in herself.

All about them was movement, leaves and fruit fell from trees as animals shrieked and birds squawked. The very ground beneath their feet was shaking; none of them had felt anything like it before.

Finally they reached the beach, and saw the boat that Alice had promised. Like the lifeline it was they piled in, Luca pushing them off before clambering in himself. Then as though possessed the little boat took them away from the island, back towards the Breaking Dawn.

Looking back Isabella saw the heat begin to rise from Tiakwen, and she wondered if that had been Alice's wish all along, to simply destroy the island that had been her cage. She found she did not blame her if it was.

And just before she turned her head, to look forward to the Breaking Dawn and her beloved, she thought she saw someone, a woman standing on the shore, wading into the water, as the great volcano erupted.

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><p><em>Let me know what you think :)<em>


	3. Out take: Changing Tides

_Here's another out-take, it's been written for aaages, but as there was already one about Isabella, I didn't want to post it. However, Edward's is taking ages to do, so here we are :)_

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><p>The sultry summer air flooded through the open window, swirling about the canopied bed in which the small child slept restlessly. She twisted and turned in the heat, hitching up her nightgown to her knees and pushing the brocade bedding to her feet in a vain attempt to stay cool. Her usually silky brown hair was damp with sweat and coming loose from the braid her nursemaid had plaited before bed, and she squirmed from the uncomfortable nature of the moisture.<p>

Eventually sat up, infuriated and more tired than she imagined a child of only five could be. She wanted something cool to drink, and wished that it was not too late to run to the well for cold water. Sighing in ire she slipped from her bed, and padded with bare feet to her window ledge. Her shoulders just reached the sill, and she leant against the plaster to feel the breeze upon her face as she looked to the sky above her. There were no stars to be seen, hidden beneath the oppressive cloud cover, if only it would clear, perhaps they may get some respite from the blasted heat.

A noise outside her heavy door made her frown, and she twisted inquisitively towards the sound. She was not sure what it was, but when a sudden rush of feet sounded in the hallway, heading towards her parent's room she ran as fast as her small legs would take her towards the ruckus.

No one noticed her as she slipped from her bedroom; the hallway was dark, lit only by the candles the three maids carried as they volleyed back and forth between the kitchen downstairs and the master's bedroom. There was such a noise emanating from that room, for a moment the girl was scared to venture any further. However, she had always been a fearless tyke, and as such found herself treading carefully to the doorway.

How strange it is, that when confronted with something unknown, yet something that frightened her so, that her ears could pick up sounds she was sure she would have otherwise overlooked. There was the steady clack of her father's heels on the uneven floorboards, as he paced back and forth at the foot of the bed. Then there was the trickle of water, as one of the maids rung out a piece of filthy linen. Before finally the child heard a sound that truly sent shivers through her, it was the rasping breath and hoarse screams of her mother, labouring at something unknown to her.

Unable to take the not knowing any longer, she stepped swiftly into the room, only afterwards wishing that she hadn't. Upon blood stained bed clothes was her mother, pale as the once white sheets, and gritting her teeth as though in an inordinate amount of pain. Her legs were bent to her chest and spread, had the girl not been so small she knew her mother would have been entirely exposed to her.

Her father looked barely better than her mother. His eyes were frantic, looking for something to do, something to help with, as he paced and manically murmured beneath his breath. Neither noticed her in her spot beside the door.

The maids all rushed around her, chattering and muttering beneath their breath, the child couldn't make out a word, and so focused all her attention upon her mother. She had never seen the woman so dishevelled; Catherine Swan prided herself on her poise and grace. She was the epitome of society, her pale complexion was natural and rivalled by none except her own daughter. Catherine held herself with such gravitas, the child was so jealous of her mother.

Some would say she was cold, for in polite company she treat her daughter as anyone else would. The girl had a wet nurse, and nurse maid, someone to tutor her and take for her turns about their gardens. She was watched constantly, though hardly ever by her own parents. However, this was not such a true reflection on life in the Swan household, Catherine and Charles were the best of parents, and doted upon their daughter like no one else. The child wondered where her mother's soft tones had gone amidst the grunts and screams that filled the room.

Suddenly, her mother slumped to the bed, and her father rushed towards it, only to be pushed back by one of the maids. The girl had no problems hearing her father's raised voice as he shouted, "She's my wife, damnit, let me through."

In fear, the nurse did just that.

She watched as her father fell at her mother's bed side, holding tight to her limp hand and kissing it roughly. He was whispering something she couldn't hear, and she clung tight to her cotton shift in fear of what was occurring, though she was far too curious to turn back to her hot room.

Her father managed to coax her mother up, and he shifted to sit behind her for what the child knew was to be the final laborious action. There was a heaviness to the air, a sense of lethargy that permeated all; were she not so anxious she was sure she would have been overcome by it.

All moved fast then, as she watched her mother tense and grit her teeth in obvious pain. However, she did no scream, as she had been, there was no noise as everyone stood still, all silently waiting though for what she had no clue. When all of a sudden there was a cry, a sound which she recognised though she had had no first hand knowledge of the subject, it was a child, a baby, and he was screaming as though the world was caving in.

The girl was so caught up in the sight of this child, arriving from God knows where and covered in all sorts of filth, that she did not at first notice how her mother had stilled. She watched instead as one of the maids wrapped the baby, a boy, in cloth and took him to a prepared pale to be cleaned. It was her father's cries to her mother than finally rowsed her.

He was shaking her, as tears fell from his eyes. The girl was shocked, she had never seen her father cry, and to see it then was most disturbing. Tentatively she took a step towards the bed, creaking a floorboard and causing the second maid to startle towards her.

"Isabella!" she exclaimed, as she attempted to shield the view of the bed from the girl.

Isabella ignored this and instead dove around the maid's legs towards the bed post, she vaulted with ease onto the mattress. "Mother?" She questioned, daring not to go near the greying visage of her once beautiful mother.

Catherine's red hair, which had always matched her firy disposition was in disarray, and her father wept unashamedly into it. Isabella did not understand. What had happened to make her father so dreadfully unhappy? Her brow furrowed as she attempted to work out this conundrum, her eyes finally settling on her mother's glassy brown eyes. It was then that it hit her; her mother was dead.

The child which had killed her mother was to be housed in the nursery, which was but a door away from Isabella's own room. She hated the very idea of it. The nurses had all tried to tell her, to teach her that it hadn't been Henry's fault, that he was but a babe and therefore could not be responsible for their mother's death; Isabella did not believe them. It was his coming into the world that had taken the life from their home, he had removed the sun which was her mother and replaced it which such a darkness in her father. Resentment had never burned so brightly in the heart of such a young child as it did in Isabella's.

For the first week of his life she would not be in the same room as him. Instead she took her lessons in the kitchen, with the maids. She refused to play in the nursery and though it often rained she played outside; as far from the deadly babe as she could manage it.

However, seven days since he had violently entered the world Isabella was becoming curious. It was a burning within her that threatened to scorch all if it was to be denied. So, on the eighth night, after tossing and turning fitfully in her sleep, she crept once again from her bed, and tiptoed down the hall to the door to the nursery. His cradle was in the very centre of the room, backed up against the wall. His wet nurse slept upon a rather modest bed close by, though Isabella could smell the rum on her breath and knew she would not be waking anytime soon.

Silently she crept to the tiny bed, and peered over the edge. It was the first time she had truly seen her little brother, and once she had she wondered at how she had ignored his existence for so long. He was so tiny. Henry's skin was as pale as their mother's had been, he had a small nose but a rather prominent chin. His forehead was wide, though it puckered as he slept, and Isabella found herself wondered at what he dreamt of. There was a fine smattering of hair on his round head, and even in the moonlight Isabella could see that it was slightly red, as their mother's had been. Isabella left his room that night feeling more foolish than she ever had, and she determined that the next day she would love her brother as her mother would have wanted her to.

However, fate has a way of spoiling even the best of plans. The next day Isabella woke to find the household in tatters. Her father, whom she had not seen for near to a week was pacing the hall outside her room, as she left after attempting to dress herself. Her maid had not awoken as she usually did, and so Isabella had taken it upon herself to dress. She was rather proud of her efforts, though she wore no stockings as the material was far too tricky for her small hands.

"Father?" She said, frowning at his dishevelled attire.

He turned deep brown eyes on her, and his expression softened as he looked upon her. She had always been her father's daughter, and it pained her so to see him unhappy. With a crack to his knees to bent down, so as to gaze straight into her eyes. All around him his life was falling to pieces, he was determined that Isabella would have the life he always imagined of her.

"Your little brother has taken ill," he said. He had never lied to her, and he never spoke to her like a child.

"Ill?"

"Yes, there is a man with him now, though I doubt he will have anything helpful to say."

Isabella frowned, before wrapping her small arms around her father's impressive shoulders. "They never do, father." His morose chuckle was music to her ears.

The man who exited the nursery was dressed in black, as was typical of those in the medical profession. He advised cool baths and perhaps a course of leeches to remove the rash which was steadily spreading across the babes lower limbs. Charles thanked him, paid him, and sent him on his way, having no intention to listen to any of his advice, though he did order the maids to draw a cold bath for his son.

The next four days were tense, and Isabella spent as much time as they would allow her to in the nursery, sitting beside her brother as he tossed and turned and cried. Isabella didn't know what to do, had no idea how to help him, though she wanted nothing more. On the fifth day Isabella awoke just as the dawn was breaking, and knew something was wrong. She ran like the hounds of hell were behind her into the nursery, and to her brothers bed side, though she knew what would be awaiting her.

For the first time in five days her brother was cold, colder than was natural. His skin was grey and his chest did not move. He was still.

Isabella was not naive, she never had been, she knew everyone was born and everyone died, her mother had been proof of that. However, death was something that happened to those who had lived. To people who had grown, and married, who had had children of their own and owned houses. It happened to people of lower standing who dwelled in squalor in the cities. It did not happen to two week old babes who had done nothing but deigned to be alive. Henry could have been a great man, he could have owned acres of land and had a beautiful wife.

She stood silent by her brother's bed side as the sun rose and broke, as the wet nurse screamed and called for her father. She did not speak even as her father picked her up and into his arms and carried her from the house. Her eyes had been opened, and Isabella wanted nothing but for them to remain closed.

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><p><em>Let me know what you think :)<em>


	4. Prologue - 14012013 UPDATE!

**I have now rewritten this story as an original piece - ****NO I'M NOT PUBLISHING IT**** - don't be ridiculous. However, I am now posting it on Wattpad :D I've been meaning to rewrite this for a while, and when I discovered that site I figured it was the perfect time to sort this out and give it a go at an original piece. Most of the story will be the same - I'm still quite in love with it. But if you'd like to read this, just head over to my wattpad site - it's free! www . / user / missrebecca12 - just remove the spaces :)**

**I'm leaving the first chapter up, as that's largely unchanged, so anyone new can see if they fancy reading it on wattpad or not :).**

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><p>This was originally a one-shot I wrote in 30 minutes for the Twi Network Iron Pen challenge.<p>

Before we begin, I would very much like to thank everyone who has helped me write this, as I'm so very proud of it. Everyone from Emergency Team Beta, who I've wrote with. VampGirl, for being my pre-reader and keeping me going. And Ninmesarra, my amazing beta who I found through the Sparkly Red Pen.

~o.O.o~

_Keelhauled: verb (used with object)_

_1. Nautical . to haul (an offender) under the bottom of a ship and up on the other side as a punishment._

_2. to rebuke severely._

~o.O.o~

_Summary: A story of love sprung from hate; of resentment, revenge and renegades. Abandon all hope ye who enter, for here there be pirates. Winner of the Twi Network Iron Pen._

~o.O.o~

I sincerely hope you all enjoy this, and please, leave as many reviews as you like, both good and bad. Constructive critique is always encouraged.


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